March 11, 2012

Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I plucked outside of my designated brow line? Man, was my face red.

In Utah county, when the weather reaches mid-fifties to sixties, out come the runners, bikers, and white legs. My white legs. Last summer I had the privilege of going on a cruise. After said cruise I had a marvelous tan, which also meant that I had a wicked tan line. I remember the contrast of the dark skin and the ghostly white skin, and being appalled that my skin could ever be so white. Well, guess what... there are no tan lines on my skin anymore, which means that my skin is back to that ghastly white tint! This isn't a big deal when my skin is mostly covered up with jeans and cardigans, but this part of the year I look forward to yet dread just the same. I'm thrilled for the sun and the warmth, but I dread having to show my terribly translucent legs. I didn't really have anywhere in particular that I was going with this post, I just wanted to share my thoughts. Thanks for listening, or reading, or whatever.
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